


Future Starts Slow

by BillieShears



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: Pemberly Arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2013-02-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 06:15:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/695135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BillieShears/pseuds/BillieShears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's starting to come around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Future Starts Slow

They stayed at the coffee shop til two in the morning, pots of tea and mugs of coffee littering the table, along with plates that sat empty save for crumpled napkins and crumbs. Fitz, who had a knack for these things, had been the one to discover it. There had been an open mic night, and while some of the acts had been laughable, a fair number of them had been surprisingly talented. 

Certainly, though, the biggest surprise was how well Darcy and Lizzie were getting along. She laughed at his jokes and he smiled at her imitation of his Aunt, and not once did anyone mention Bing and Caroline, George Wickham, or Lizzie's fight with Lydia. They spend the whole evening enjoying each other's company.

Fitz drives them home and Gigi is all too quick to call shotgun, and they exchange near-manic smiles when a dozing Lizzie slumps against Darcy’s shoulder and his hand winds up resting on her knee. When they pull up to Lizzie’s temporary home and nudge her awake, Darcy insists on walking her to the door. The moment she retrieves her key from her purse, they hear the screeching of tires as Fitz peels out, and a faint cry of “blame Gigi for this one!” echoing in the night.

“I could call a cab,” Darcy offers dimly, as they stare transfixed at the space where the car had once been.

“No -- don’t,” Lizzie waves off the idea tiredly as she pushes the door open, “It’s not worth it. The cab won’t get here til three, and it’ll take even longer for you to get home. There’s a guest bedroom, you can sleep in there.”

“I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you,” He insists, eyeing the door warily. 

“The only inconvenience here is that we’re still standing on the porch and my sweater is in the back of Fitz’s car,” She assures him. Then, softer: “It’s no trouble. After all you’ve done for me at Pemberley -”

“It’s nothing,” He says quickly, “really.”

“Neither is this,” She implores, “really.” 

He regards her in silence for only a moment before nodding and following her inside. 

\- - -

“Bathroom is down the hall – I’ll leave you some towels for the morning, and I think they’ve got some spare toothbrushes in the second drawer. My bedroom is right there, if you need something. Feel free to eat anything that you can make yourself,” Lizzie rattles off, “am I forgetting anything important?”

“No. Thank you,” He adds quickly, “For being so hospitable. Under the circumstances.”

“It’s okay, really.” Her smile, though nervous, is genuine. “Sleep well, Darcy.” 

“Goodnight, Lizzie.”

She stops short when she reaches the door, and turns abruptly to face him. Darcy is seated on the edge of his bed, carefully untying his shoes. When he feels the weight of her gaze upon him, he looks up at her quizzically. 

“Was there something else?”

“I just wanted to say -” It is now or never, Lizzie tells herself; “- that I think I misjudged you. And I’m sorry for that. Truly.”

“Lizzie,” When he rises to his feet, she panics. “I -”

“Goodnight!” She shrills, and practically runs from the room.

\- - -

The next morning, Lizzie walks out of the shower and right into Darcy, who is clad only in his boxers.

“Oh!” She tightens her grip on her towel, “Oh my God, I am so sorry-”

“No, no, I’m sorry – I didn’t have pajamas with me –”

“I should have found you something to wear –”

“I didn’t hear the water running –”

“I’m gonna get dressed,” She crosses her arms tightly around herself, unable to meet his gaze, “you shower. Take your time. I – sorry. Again.” 

\- - -

When he comes downstairs, Lizzie has made pancakes. Or tried to. They avoid eye contact and eat in uncomfortable silence for most of the morning, until Lizzie believes she very well may explode.

“They’re terrible,” She admits, regarding her barely touched plate, “you don’t have to eat them.”

“They’re not so bad,” He consoles, and the corners of his lips twitch upwards, “if you’re willing to eat around the raw parts.”  
Lizzie laughs and so does he, and the silence is broken.

\- - -

Fitz comes to pick Darcy up at ten. He assesses the pair of them, laughing over half-eaten pancakes, and snaps a picture with his phone. 

“Evidence,” He explains when met with gaping stares, “to prove to Gigi you survived the night.”

“Speaking of Georgiana…” Darcy rises to his feet, “where is she this morning?” 

“Far from here, my friend,” Fitz’s grin splits his whole face, “sure she’ll commit the crime, but I’m the one who gets stuck with the time. Some friendship, huh?”

“She’ll be hearing from me regardless,” Darcy’s face is stern, but he cannot quite mask the smile in his voice. He turns to Lizzie and, for a moment, looks as though he’s going to reach for her, but thinks better of it. “Thank you again for your hospitality. I truly appreciate it.”

“No problem,” She murmurs, meeting his gaze for as long as she can before dropping her eyes to her lap. Fitz waits them out a moment longer, and when nothing happens, grabs Darcy by the sleeve. 

“See you later, Lizzie B,” He calls as the door shuts behind them. When they’re safely in the car, he turns to Darcy in disbelief. 

“Man, I can't believe you didn’t kiss her,” He admonishes, “you’re hopeless.”

Darcy glances out the car window and catches Lizzie’s gaze from behind the kitchen sink. She wiggles her fingers in a tentative wave. 

“Perhaps not,” He says, and raises his hand to wave back.

**Author's Note:**

> i was so distressed at the lack of pemberly shenanigans that i had to make up my own. title is from a song of the same name by the kills.


End file.
